


Civilian

by Misanagi



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-09
Updated: 2008-02-09
Packaged: 2017-10-12 14:07:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/125665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misanagi/pseuds/Misanagi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Protecting a fellow Gundam pilot isn't an easy job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Civilian

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shimeji](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=shimeji).



> Wonderful illustrations for the fic done by the lovely [](http://shimeji.livejournal.com/profile)[**shimeji**](http://shimeji.livejournal.com/). You can also see them **[here](http://misanagi.livejournal.com/198970.html)** or **[here](http://shimeji.livejournal.com/15254.html)**

"I'm sure, gentlemen, that this won't be a very difficult mission for you two."

That showed exactly how much Lady Une knew Quatre Winner. It would be easy, she had said, just to guard him for the couple of weeks the Earth summit would last. Heero and I knew Quatre so why would it be a problem?

It would be because Quatre Winner is a stubborn bastard, ex Gundam pilot, rich brat used to getting his way. Of course, maybe after the disaster of the last summit when Quatre ended up saving the lives of his supposed Preventer bodyguards Lady Une had decided that it was better for Gundam pilots to work together.

That was all fine and dandy when we were fighting a war all as warriors but try convincing the pilot of Sandrock that he is supposed just to smile and wave and not check for exit routes or people lurking in dark corners?

Heero tried. He put on the glary face and informed Quatre that as long as we were in charge of his security he would have to trust us to protect him. Quatre had just smiled and said "of course." Hah! I still can't believe Heero fell for that, by now he should know better. The other guys, they don't see Quatre the way I do, they still trust the charming smile way too much.

Quatre was perfectly agreeable the first couple of days. He went to his meetings, talked to us in the car, had dinners in the hotel as much as possible so we could all sit together and talk instead of Heero and me standing by the door. He just forgot to tell us about the threats.

For three months Quatre had been getting threatening emails, phone calls and letters, trying to make him vote a certain way in the summit. A month ago someone had even put a knife to his neck when he was leaving a restroom and his inept security detail was elsewhere. Quatre had simply taken care of the problem himself, letting the man go with a warning for his employer.

Heero discovered the emails. He said it was by mistake but this is Heero we are talking about. He's nosy and has the hacking skills to get any info he wants. He was livid. Not that I wasn't but I'm more the type to rant than to throw icy glares at everything that moves.

"You should have told us," Heero informed Quatre in a clipped tone when we confronted him that night.

"I can handle it, don't worry."

"It's not your job to handle it." Heero's voice was cold.

The next day after his first meeting Quatre pulled a Houdini on us and vanished. Oh he was nice enough to leave a voice message saying he was fine and would meet us at the hotel at six, so we wouldn't worry... Didn't I tell you he's a brat?

We tracked him down to a bar downtown where he was calmly playing the piano while a group of girls observed him from afar. I was about to rush in and haul his blond ass to the limo where Heero and I could properly trash him for almost giving us a heart attack, but Heero stopped me.

"He's sad," he said.

We stood at the threshold for a while, hearing him play and I could see what Heero was talking about by the way Quatre played and the expression on his face. After the third song Quatre raised his eyes to meet ours, stood up and followed us without complain back to the hotel.

The mood was heavy that night and we settled on the big king sized bed of the suit quiet for a while.

"What's wrong?" Heero finally asked.

I wasn't surprised when Quatre said, "I'm tired."

It was a loaded answer. I shared a look with Heero and I knew he also understood.

"Quit," I said.

I thought Quatre would shake his head, would talk about responsibility and duty like he always did but he didn't. He stayed quiet for the rest of the night.

The day of the voting came and Quatre delivered his speech. His voice was calm and strong but the easy smile made him seem approachable. He was bred for this, to lead a company, to be a politician, L4 representative. He had all the skills necessary and he hated it.

He made his vote and when he came down from the podium and took his seat on the table he leaned towards me and whispered, "Be ready, they'll retaliate."

Quatre wasn't the strategist for nothing. We made it to the road before two big trucks rammed into the limousine and forced us out of the road. I had my gun in my hand and noticed that Heero and Quatre did too. The driver was shaking, a gun in his hand but a terrified look on his face. Heero pulled him out of the car, where we could all take cover behind the limo and told him to stay down.

Regular procedure said I should throw Quatre to the floor, keep him down and out of harms way… well whoever wrote the book didn't have Gundam pilots in mind when he did. Quatre, Heero and I quickly drifted into a familiar rhythm. We trusted each other enough to watch our backs, trusted we wouldn't miss, trusted we were good enough and as Quatre took down two of the men firing at us I understood why he couldn't settle, why he couldn't let others protect him. He knew he would do a better job himself.

"Why aren't you protecting Mr. Winner?" The driver asked, finally finding his voice as he hid behind a tire with no intention of returning the heavy fire we were receiving.

"We are," I said. "The best way we know how to."

Quatre Winner couldn't be protected by being thrown to the ground. No, he was safer with a gun at his hand and us fighting beside him.

It couldn't have lasted more than fifteen minutes. The limo had been destroyed but by the time the Preventers arrived the assailants were on the ground or had fled in panic.

"I'm done," Quatre said, putting his gun back in his shoulder holster. "Done."

Two weeks later Heero and I handed in our report. Lady Une called us to her office, an irritated look on her face. "You didn't follow procedure."

"We never do," I reminded her.

"You let a civilian participate in a gun fight."

"Quatre is hardly a civilian," Heero said.

"No," Lady Une said slowly. "He isn't." Then she smiled. "Not any more."

We weren't surprised when one morning the office at the end of the hall had a "Preventer Winner" plaque on the door.


End file.
